


Bridges Burned

by writingfromtheshadows (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Dark Wanda, Gen, Minor Character Death, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Psychological Torture, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-06-10 17:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6966817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/writingfromtheshadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Everyone on the team seemed to believe that having powers meant having a responsibility to use them selflessly. Always for others’ sake, not their own. Wanda didn’t recall her own coming with strings attached, and if they did, surely she had already paid the price." </i>
</p>
<p>Her experience in Raft gave Wanda plenty of time to think, and she decides that being the 'hero' might not be for her. After all, it worked horribly the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea to write this fic after being extremely pissed off with how Wanda was treated by others in Civil War. This fic _is_ canon compliant and takes places immediately after the events of Civil War. Please pay careful attention to the archive warnings and tags because it's going to get ugly fast. I'll be trying very hard to avoid letting Wanda's character fall into the 'crazy, hot, and powerful' trope so feel free to shoot me a message if I make a misstep!

Being locked away in a maximum security prison for super-powered criminals gives one a lot of time to think. There was little do but contemplate how each and every decision in her life had landed Wanda here, with a straight jacket around her torso and a shock collar to keep her quiet. Each loss could be traced back to a significant decision she had made, and Wanda had picked apart every turning point in her life and isolated each mistake she had ever made. Wanda lost her parents, her brother, her home, and any hope for living a normal life. 

Her parents.

Another average night in the life of a normal family. Her father smiling after a long day’s work, her mother serving a meal pulled together with the last of the groceries. Her own laughter directly preceding the collapse of her world. Huddling under the bed, waiting for the missile, Stark’s missile, to end her life. Pietro trying to be brave for the both of them.

Pietro.

It was her idea to volunteer for the experiments. One evening after protests an older man in a clean, pressed suit, sought them out. Said he had a way to help them avenge their parent’s deaths. Pietro had scoffed, said he had no intentions of becoming a lab rat for a mad scientist. But Wanda, she was interested. It took her a week to convince her brother.

The experiments were excruciating. It was the feeling of having something dive into her head and toy with her brains, of a lightning storm firing behind her eyes, of a power crammed into a space much too small to contain. But her powers. They were beautiful.

Without them, she and Pietro would have still been in Sokovia the day the city fell from the sky, but as civilians their chances of survival might have been greater.

Perhaps she would have died instead.

His death was on her. The deaths in Lagos were on her.

Wanda wasn’t a fool. She had made mistakes, but mistakes made by someone with her powers were almost always deadly. But she had also done good. She helped save the people of Sokovia. She had been running missions with the Avengers for months without incident. She helped Steve and Bucky get to Siberia to find the man who had truly been responsible for the deaths at the summit. She had tried her hardest to be an Avenger, to be a hero, it was her job.

_Was it?_

Blinking slightly, Wanda tilted her head, ignoring the warning buzz that came from her collar.

Everyone on the team seemed to believe that having powers meant having a responsibility to use them selflessly. Always for others’ sake, not their own.

Wanda didn’t recall her own coming with strings attached, and if they did, surely she had already paid the price.

No. Wanda remembered her powers coming with a goal. To destroy Tony Stark.

That goal was laughable now. Small-minded. Childish. Given enough time, Stark was perfectly capable of taking care of that himself. What had happened to the Avengers was proof of that.

When she used her powers against the Avengers she was a tool for Hydra, then a tool for Ultron. Her parents’ memory was not avenged; it was destroyed in the rubble of Sokovia.

And what made the Avengers better? Did she even have a choice to join them? If she had declined the offer would she just have landed in Raft sooner? Had she always been viewed as too dangerous to be trusted on her own?

The team had been a new start, a new home. Until Lagos. Until the people she trusted with her life could no longer trust her to leave the base. Besides, Wanda had no use for a team that agreed to be tools. Whether for Hydra or the UN, it was no different, she had already tread that path. That path had left her without a part of herself, her heart ripped out and tossed on the streets of a city that no longer existed.

Wanda had lost her parents, her brother, her country, any hope of living a normal life and even her ability to use her powers to save others. Ripped away by the greed of corporations, by the fears of men who had too much power of their own and by the fears other had of something they could not understand. Perhaps in this cell she was losing her true sense of perspective.

She didn’t care.

It wasn’t that she deserved better, but Wanda was owed.

The door to her cell slid open and she glanced towards it, surprised to meet concerned blue eyes.

“Give me a second, we’re going to get you out of here, Wanda.” Steve murmured, studying her collar closely.

His fingers slid over the release and he pulled it off of her, dropping it on the ground and crushing it underfoot before undoing her straight jacket.

Limbs gone numb from lack of use protested loudly as Wanda got to her feet. After a few stumbled steps, she waved Steve off so he could release the others. Alone, Wanda walked forward slowly, getting used to the knowledge that she was free of this hellhole.

“You’ll feel better when we get out of here.” Sam told her, moving to help her out into the room.

That was debatable. But she would certainly feel better after collecting on some debts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda's odd behavior, or rather lack of it, begins to catch the concern of her friends.

T’Challa ran his gaze over the sprawling view of Wakanda outside the window directly across from the room holding Barnes’ cryogenic freezer. Having such guests, harboring such fugitives, was extremely unusual for his people, but T’Challa couldn’t squash the rush of pride that came with the knowledge of what Wakandan might would be able to do to help the lost Avengers.

For Barnes, their scientists were currently working around the clock, reading files on his time as the Winter Soldier. Dissecting what notes they had on HYDRA’s brainwashing to try and find some clues, a way to reverse engineer his brain-washing. Warriors were sent out, discreetly, to collect more information and when he awoke, he would be fitted with the best prosthetic Wakandan crafters could create.

The others, Rogers, Barton, Lang, Wilson and the girl, Maximoff. Were housed not far from the palace. For now, they were recovering but Rogers had already offered their services as a team for any mission T’Challa may possibly request of them.

But the girl.

“I have some concerns about one of your friends,” T’Challa said, shifting his gaze back to Steve, “Maximoff.”

Steve’s body language changed instantly, shifting from the concern over Barnes to wariness, “She’s a good kid, your highness. She just made a mistake, in Lagos.”

He nodded, “I am aware. That is not my concern. I am worried about how she is handling what occurred, particularly her time in the prison.”

Understanding dawned on the Captain, “She’s been quiet, but it’s not too surprising. Sam made sure we all at least met with the therapist you recommended, everyone’s been going regularly. I’d assume if there was a problem, the therapist would let you know.”

“Maximoff’s mind is quite clear. I am also not concerned of an emotional or mental break. I am concerned that, through a series of quite rational conjectures and connections, she will start on a course of action that is not healthy for anyone involved.” T’Challa glanced back out the window, if his hunch was correct, the girl was being consumed by vengeance. She was staring down the path of darkness quite similar to the one he had been tempted by, that Zemo and Stark had fallen victim to. Wakanda would not be threatened by it, but the damage it could cause across the world was significant.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Her eyes. They are cold.” T’Challa murmured, he could picture those eyes now, a sharp contrast to the pleasant smile, her heartfelt words of thanks, “You have been preoccupied with Barnes. There is no more you can do for him now. Go see how you can help the rest of your friends, I recommend you start with her.”

He nodded at Rogers and left the captain to his thoughts.

....

The waiting jet was undergoing some last minute supply stocking, workers rushing in and out with various boxes and cargo. The pilot was standing off to the side of the plan, talking quietly with T’Challa and just a few feet from the pair stood Wakanda’s fugitives.

“Man, all I’m saying is I get that Clint has Natasha pulling strings him over there, but how the hell is tic tac going to stay out of jail?” Sam asked, glancing over at where Scott was talking to a Wakandan fighter.

Steve shrugged, “Evidently he’s being sheltered by a tech genius that hates Tony. He’ll be fine.” His eyes flicked to Clint, “You’re sure you’ll be alright?”

Clint nodded, “Nat’s been underground but she managed to get to Laura and the kids. I’ll rendezvous with her and then I think we’re going on vacation somewhere nice, maybe Florida.” He grinned at Wanda, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with?”

“No. It’s better if I stay here.” Wanda gave him a small smile; the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Clint’s own grin faltered slightly and he shifted on his feet. A tense silence was broken when Steve said, “Clint, can we talk for a second?”

Eyes lingering on Wanda a second longer, Clint nodded and followed Steve until they were out of earshot. Clint stuffed his hands in his pockets but didn’t say a word, waiting to hear whatever it was that was so clearly tugging on Steve’s mind.

“Is Wanda okay?”

Clint rolled his eyes, “No, she’s not, I thought that was obvious.”

“I meant has she been getting better since Raft or worse?”

“Dunno, Cap, why don’t you ask her?”

“Clint.”

The archer gave a sigh, “Look, she’s been acting perfectly normal. A little quiet, but not much different than she was before Raft. And that’s a problem. Maybe spend some time with her and figure out what’s up.”

Steve spread his hands out in a helpless gesture, “You two are close, I thought you would know.”

“While you’ve been busy helping Bucky, I’ve been trying to make sure my family didn’t get dragged off to some prison by association.” Clint replied, “Besides, Wanda’s an adult, I can’t make her tell me anything if she doesn’t want me to. Why the sudden concern?”

“T’Challa mentioned he was worried.”

Clint shook his head, “Geez, Cap. I know you've had a rough time but usually you're not completely thick.” A shout came from the direction of the jet and Clint glanced over, waving at the speaker before adding, “If I could drag her with me, I would. But she’s staying here, make sure she’s not alone, yeah? She’s had a hard couple of years.”

He turned to leave and hesitated, turning back to add, “You know, she’s been asking questions about Zemo.”

“What does that mean?”

“Not sure, but I’d keep an ear out for what she wants to know. I’ll see you around, Cap. Don’t get into any more messes cause I will not be coming you bail you out anymore. I can barely handle my own messes, let alone saving your ass all the time.”

Steve grinned, “Tell Nat I said hi, and thank you.”

Clint gave him a lazy salute and jogged over to say his goodbyes to Sam and Wanda. He shook Sam’s hand and pulled Wanda into a quick hug before ruffling her hair, no doubt ruining any touching moment. Then he was on the jet with Scott and vanishing from sight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve confronts Wanda.

The thud of the punching bag was soothing, consistent and the feeling of her hands being met with harsh resistance was almost a relief. It gave her the knowledge that she could still _feel,_ even if it was just discomfort. Discomfort was a step above pain, and she had experienced enough of that.

Moonlight streamed through the high windows of the gym, reflecting the metal of various pieces of equipment but keeping her in relative shadow. Wanda could feel sweat trickling down her forehead, she punched harder.

“Now here’s an unusual sight.”

The voice came from the door, she didn’t bother looking up, “You always wanted me to work on my fighting.”

“And you always argued that being telekinetic makes fighting a waste of your time.”

There was an unspoken question. A ‘what changed’ that was left unsaid and Wanda huffed, pivoting on her foot and lashing out with a kick.

Despite those very arguments, she had been put through her paces with Natasha during her training, learning the bare basics of unarmed combat. Although she had never been eager to keep up with what she learned, the physical exertion was quickly becoming her favorite way to destress.

“You’re up late,” She muttered.

“And you’re not?”

Wanda whacked the bag again, and came to a dead stop. Her hand splayed against the fabric, as if she could soak strength from the unyielding material, “You’re skipping around the point, Steve, what do you want?”

He moved further into the room, passing through patches of moonlight that threw temporary relief on his features before stopping just shy of the shadows around her.

“I’m worried about you, Wanda.”

She tilted her head, finally meeting his gaze, “I’m alive, T’Challa is sheltering us from Ross, I’m not sure what there is to be worried about.”

“When Pietro died,” Wanda flinched slightly but Steve plowed own, “When he died, you were heartbroken, but you tried to push through it. You were strong and brave, but sometimes you were quiet and lost and then there were days when you would lock yourself in your room for hours at a time. I know what you act like when you’ve gone through something traumatic. This,” He waved his hand around them, “isn’t how you handle it. This is something different.”

Wanda dropped his gaze and shifted her stance, resuming her practice, “People change.”

“Wanda, would you please give it a rest?” Steve asked.

She ignored him, hurling all of her strength behind her punches. Wanda let the noise of her fists hitting leather fill the gym, hoping that Steve would get the message and leave her alone.

Subconsciously, she knew better than to expect anything of the sort.

Wanda was pulling back for another punch when Steve pushed the bag back and stepped in front of her, face set, “Can you talk to me? I’m worried about you.”

She followed through with the punch. Steve leaned sideways, letting her fist fly past him, and grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her back in a fluid movement and pulling her close so she couldn’t break free.

“Wanda.”

“Let me go.”

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Wanda scowled, “What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that the people I thought I could trust, the people I thought were supposed to be my family, locked me in the base because they couldn’t trust me to use my powers. What’s wrong is that I not only had to watch my _family,”_ She spat the word out, “be torn apart but I had to choose a side to watch it happen from. What’s wrong is that the bastard who orchestrated the whole thing is sitting cozy in a jail cell nowhere near as horrific as the one I was shoved into. What’s wrong is that if I step outside these borders I’d have people hunting me down like a wild animal when all I was trying to do was some good.”

Her voice had risen throughout her rant and she caught herself before she was yelling. She hissed out the last sentence, “What’s wrong is that you won’t let me handle the situation the way I feel like it needs to be handled. Let me go right now, Steve, or I swear I’ll fling you out of the window.”

They stood in silence for a long moment before Steve slowly let her go, stepping back as she turned to face him, “You don’t have to handle this all on your own, Wanda. Sam and I, we’re both here for you.”

Wanda’s whole body was quivering, but her voice was calm and ice cold as she said, “I’ll keep that in mind. If that’s all, I’d like to get back to my practice.”

Steve didn't move right away, his eyes roving her face for any clues, any hint as to what was going on in her mind. Wanda matched his stare second for second until he finally sighed and left her alone.

The sound of fists thumping leather chased him out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve thinks Wanda is sulking. Natasha thinks Wanda isn't there.

Wanda didn’t leave her room the next day. Steve spent his time with Sam, playing cards, learning more about Wakanda, and trying to resist the urge to pester her more.

“She probably just needs some time to cool off,” Sam told him when he caught Steve glancing at the hallway that led to her room for what seemed like the thirtieth time, “I mean you did barge into her practice and force her to relieve some of her worst memories.”

Steve sighed, “Thanks, Sam.”

His friend grinned, “Just telling it as it is, man. But seriously, she’ll be fine. Give her a minute and some space and she’ll be back to normal soon enough.”

‘A minute’ turned into hours, and then a full day, and then two. Steve would occasionally knock on her door to see if she wanted to eat lunch or dinner with him and Sam, but there was never any answer.

Even Sam started to get concerned.

Four days passed without either man seeing a hair of Wanda, when Steve got a phone call from a block number. With slight hesitation, he answered, “Hello?”

“Where’s Wanda?” Natasha bypassed any sort of greeting, her voice sharp.

Steve frowned, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, at this precise moment, where is Wanda Maximoff?”

“In her room, she hasn’t left in days. Not that I’ve seen.” Steve replied, completely bewildered, “Why are you asking, aren’t you in America?”

“No, I’m not. Are you completely sure that she’s still in Wakanda?”

Getting to his feet, Steve put the phone on speaker, making his way to her room, “Still in Wakanda? Nat, she hasn’t left the building we’re staying in.” He knocked on the door, “Wanda? Can you at least say something? Natasha’s convinced you’re not here.”

There was no answer, but Sam poked his head out of his room, “What’s going on?”

“Sam, have you seen Wanda recently?” Natasha asked.

“No, she’s been avoiding us.”

Natasha swore in Russian, “Steve, break open the door.”

Steve glared at the phone, even though he was aware Natasha couldn’t see him, he hoped that her sixth sense was picking it up, “I kind of want to avoid damaging property considering that we only have a place to stay on T’Challa’s good will.”

“Open the fucking door, Steve!” Natasha never lost her temper, and the clear stress in her voice sent a sense of foreboding through Steve’s body.

He passed the phone to Sam and jiggled the handle. It was locked. With a mental apology to T’Challa, Steve shoved forward, knocking the door off its hinges. The two men stepped into Wanda’s room.

It was empty.

Steve scanned the room, it looked mostly untouched, like it had been empty for days. The window was firmly closed, but with Wanda’s power, it didn’t mean much.

“I take it by this long silence that she’s not there.” Natasha spoke up.

“Nat, what happened? How did you know?” Steve asked.

“I’ve got feelers out, just to stay on top of anything that would involve us.” She replied, she sounded tired, “A few hours ago I got a tip about someone sighting Wanda. In France. Evidently there was a car crash and a little boy was going to be hit, then suddenly he was floating to the air towards his mother and a woman with dark hair was standing nearby, her eyes were glowing red. When’s the last time you saw her?”

“Four days ago. Do you know where she’s headed?”

“I was hoping she wasn’t gone,” Natasha replied, “I’ll head towards her last known. You two need to figure out how the hell she got out without being noticed and find out where she’s going.” She hung up.

Steve stared around the room, “Sam, could you go talk to T’Challa while I get us ready to go?”

“He’d want to hear it from you.”

“I know,” Steve sighed, “But…”

Sam nodded, picking up the rest of Steve’s sentence, “I’ll go. Try not to beat yourself up too much, she slipped away right under both of our noses, and past the security of the most high-tech country on Earth.” He paused, “When I say it like that it’s actually really impressive.”

Despite himself, Steve smiled slightly at the comment, “Just get on with it Sam. Maybe mention I broke the door while you’re at it?”

…

T’Challa heard out Sam’s explanation in a side room in-between meetings, his face largely unreadable, “You did not know she left?”

“No,” Sam replied, shrugging, “We thought she was sulking in her room.” He paused, frowning as a realization dawned on him, “Did you know she left?”

“I offered my hospitality, I did not realize I was also supposed to play prison guard.” T’Challa raised an eyebrow, “Do you truly think I cannot keep track of three foreigners on my country’s soil?”

Sam blinked, “Well, no, but I guess we figured that if she decided to leave you would mention something.”

“I assumed you knew, considering she is your friend.” T’Challa raised a hand, glancing over Sam’s shoulder at something standing outside the door, “Aneka, can you provide him with the information we have on Ms. Maximoff’s departure?”

Glancing over, Sam met the gaze of T’Challa’s chief of security, a woman he had done his best to avoid contact with if only because she looked like she would enjoy ripping him limb from limb. Aneka was running her eyes over Sam, her eyebrow slightly quirked as if asking the question why he need information on his own teammate, but she nodded and gave T’Challa a reply in Wakandan.

The king’s lips twitched, and Sam had the feeling Aneka was mocking him. T’Challa provided no translation, however, merely adding, “You will be going after her?”

“Since she snuck away from us we figure she might not have the best plans.” Sam admitted, “She’s been asking questions about Zemo.”

T’Challa’s whole body tensed for a second before relaxing. It happened so quickly Sam wasn’t sure his eyes weren't just playing tricks on him. Though, if anything could make the new king lose his composure, it would be a mention of his father’s killer.

“I will provide a jet for your departure. Be warned, if your return to Wakanda puts it in undue danger, you will not be allowed to re-enter my country.”

Sam nodded, “Got it. Thanks for your help.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda pays Zemo a visit.

Wanda weaved her way through the streets of Berlin, the visor of her cap tilted just low enough to avoid cameras but not so low that she looked suspicious. Her pace was even, measured, it was clear she had a destination in mind but she was not in a rush. As she walked she could hear the voices of the Avengers, of Natasha explaining undercover work, of Steve going over tactics, of Sam telling her that being comfortable with her nerves was better than being torn down by them.

It was ironic that their training was helping her now. In a mission that they never would have signed off on.

She was on a time constraint. Using her powers in France was a risk, she wouldn’t put it past Natasha to already have heard about the situation and got to Steve. She had no idea how long it would take them to notice she had left, but at the very least they wouldn’t know where she had been.

They would know she was coming after Zemo.

She had spent the last two days casing the building where he was being held. From questions she asked Sam, she knew a general layout of where to go and which detention area likely housed the man. However, getting in and getting to his cell was a completely different beast.

Wanda had spent a whole day observing the building from the outside. Watching the security line to get inside, where the service doors were and when the entrances and exits seemed to be the busiest.

Today she would be going inside. Slipping around the front entrance of the building, Wanda fell in line with a group of service workers. Her magic slid around her fingers, floating around the whole group to keep them in an almost trance, preventing any from recognizing her as being a new addition.

The group entered the employee entrance, each sliding an id card as they walked through. Wanda stepped forward and slid the card she had stolen from a worker the previous day, it was considerably easier to pick pocket from afar, and with telekinesis.

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you take off your hat.”

Wanda smiled, raising her hand to her head, “Of course.”

Red magic floated towards him and his eyes glazed over. Wanda fell back into step with the group of workers. When they turned a corner, she slipped into a bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. Letting the water run.

Women walked in and out, all seemingly lost in work thoughts as they moved with a purchase. Their badges were displayed prominently on their chests or clipped to their waists and Wanda scanned each one carefully.

Finally, a woman with a high level security clearance badge walked in. Wanda locked the bathroom door and stepped into her path.

The woman frowned, “Can I help you?”

A shot of red magic dove into her head, giving her a hallucination long enough for Wanda to swap badges and stroll out of the bathroom. From this point on, Wanda could hear her heart hammering in her chest. Any second she could be discovered and she was so deep within the building she wasn’t quite sure how she would get out.

She followed the mental map she had put together from Sam’s storytelling and from peeking into the heads of people she passed until she was standing outside the control room for the containment cells.

Taking a steadying breath. Wanda walked inside, her magic swirling around her hands and up her arms.

The agent closest to her noticed and jumped out of his chair, opening his mouth to call for security.

Wanda sent out a pulse of magic, knocking everyone unconscious. Bodies dropped to the floor and agents slumped over their desks. She caught sight of a short man in a suit, recognizing him from Sam’s description as Everett Ross.

Kneeling next to his body, Wanda plucked his clearance card from his suit jacket as she magically sealed the room off. A glance at the monitors showed her target lounging in his cell and Wanda straightened. She didn’t have long before someone discovered the room of knocked out agents, she would have to move quickly.

…

The door to Zemo’s cell slid open and he glanced up, squinting against the sudden burst of artificial light. A silhouette was standing in the opening, unmoving and unfamiliar.

“Who’s there?” His voice was even, perhaps tired. He was leaning against the far corner of his tiny cell, fingers drumming on his knees.

Wanda stepped forward, letting the door slide shut behind her, “You are Helmut Zemo.”

“Yes.” His eyes narrowed slightly, confused, before recognition flickered across his face, “You are one of the Avengers. Scarlet Witch.”

“My name is Wanda, and thanks to you the Avengers no longer exist.”

Zemo’s lips curled into a smirk, “I heard they are still operating, in New York. A smaller roster perhaps.”

Wanda took a steadying breath, trying not to let this man upset her control, “You ruined my life.”

“You ruined mine. My wife and son, they died because of you and your Avengers. I searched for their bodies for two days, while you got in your jet and slept easily.”

“A lot of people died in Sokovia,” Wanda replied, “No one else has gone on vengeance rampage that killed countless innocents and tore apart the only defense Earth has from inter-galactic threats.”

She didn’t add that she didn’t get to go home after Sokovia. That her home, just like his was the rubble of a ruined country. She didn’t bring up Pietro, seeing his lifeless body in a side room of the ship that evacuated them from the city. The _weeks_ of nightmares, of imagining how things could have gone differently. How even now she blamed herself for what happened.

This man did not deserve a second of empathy from her.

He pushed himself so he was standing and crossed the small space until he was pressed right against the front of the cell, “Then why are you here? Your brother died in Sokovia and here you are outside my cell, just itching to kill me in cold blood. You and I are not so different.”

“I am not like you.” She spat, aware that her hands were starting to tremble at the mention of Pietro.

“What makes you any better?” Zemo pressed.

Wanda was thoughtful, staring straight into his eyes, using her powers to suitably peruse the foremost emotions in his head, “You wish to die. T’Challa took that away from you.” She grinned, all teeth and no warmth, stepping forward another step, “Do you think I would give you want you desire? You want to die to return to your wife and child? Why would I grant you that?”

“If you’re not here to kill me, you’ve wasted a trip. They’ll arrest you on sight.”

“There are things worse than death, Helmut.” Wanda replied, her eyes flashing a deep red.

Magic laced around her fingers and floated towards the cell. It wrapped around the entire container and dove into the ventilation cracks to surround Zemo. His eyes widened and he shoved himself away from her just as the magic dove into his head.

There was a split second of calm before Wanda was inside his worst memory.

_Zemo was stumbling through the wreckage of buildings. Broken concrete and destroyed buildings covered what had once been a street. There were animal carcasses peeking out from flipped cars and tumbled trees. His face was pale, drawn, his feet dragged on the ground and he tripped often. Exhaustion was in every line of his body._

_Wanda leisurely followed him, eyes picking up the wreck around her. She had not gotten the chance to say goodbye to Sokovia. She had stayed on the ship, at her brother’s side, until it landed at an embassy for the UN._

_It was every bit as horrible as she ever imagined._

_Zemo came to an abrupt halt and Wanda stepped around him. Just two feet ahead was an old man. His clothes were in tatters, his skin was splotched with burns and cuts, he looked like he was just hours away from passing out._

_Clutched in his arms were two bodies. A woman and a young boy. Both well preserved in death, as if the old man had spent his time taking care of the dead rather than trying to live. He rocked back and forth, one hand cradled around the head of the woman, one wrapped around a torso too small to be lifeless. Perhaps the only reason keeping him from crying was that his body had no more fluids to expend._

_“Father?” Zemo’s voice was small, timid._

_The man slowly raised his head and stared at Zemo, Wanda could almost feel the heartbreak in his expression, “I couldn’t save them, my boy. I couldn’t-I wasn’t fast enough.”_

_Zemo stumbled forward, dropping to his knees in front of the man. Trembling hands reached out to touch the faces of his wife and son._

_Wanda shifted her gaze from the family to her surroundings, “They did not live in the city.”_

_“No.” He forced the word out, not turning from where he knelt, “I told them, I promised them, they would be safe here.”_

_“How long did it take?”_

_“Two days. It took two days for me to find them.”_

_Wanda flicked her gaze back to the family, “No, how long did it take for them to die?”_

_Zemo drew a ragged breath, his shoulders slumping,“I don’t know. I didn’t ask my father.”_

_"Why not find out now?”_

_A small hand, skin half gone from its palm, rose through the air to tug on Zemo’s shirt sleeve, “I was waiting for you to come home, Papa. You said you were coming home soon.”_

_“You promised us that we would be safe here, Helmut.” His wife added, turning her head from where it rested against his father. Her right eye was melted shut, her left glaring in accusation, “If I must die so be it, but our boy? He had his whole life in front of him Helmut! You are his father, you’re supposed to protect him!"_

_“Stop it.” That was Zemo, his voice wavered, but he wasn’t able to tear his eyes away from the horror in front of him, “You witch. Stop it.”_

_Wanda tilted her head, “But we don’t have the answer to my question. Little boy, how long did it take you to die?”_

_“I don’t know.” He sat up, frowning, “I remember the city rising into the sky and then it began to ran buildings. Mama said the furnace exploded. I couldn’t see, there were screams coming from above. And then…”_

_“And then?” She prompted._

_“Then I burned.” He whispered, “I couldn’t put the fire out. It ate me alive. I screamed and screamed but Mama, she was burning too.”_

_Zemo bolted to his feet, turning on Wanda. His eyes were brimming with tears and his face was a violent shade of red, “You disgusting bitch!"_

_“Not a wise way to talk to someone trapping you inside your worst nightmare.” Wanda pointed out, “You wanted to die to rejoin them, didn’t you? I’m merely doing you a favor.”_

_“Get me out of here!” Zemo yelled, running at her._

_His wife grabbed his back ankle and clung tight, making him fall forward so he was on his hands and knees. Wanda stepped closer, towering over Zemo, forcing him to look up at her to maintain eye contact._

_All the warmth was gone from her face, replaced with the ice of the rage she had kindled in Raft, “Listen carefully, Helmut, I’m not going to kill you. I’m not going to give you what you want. I am going to leave you here, listening to each detail of their deaths over and over again. You will go insane. That is a guarantee. And maybe, just maybe, your jailers will have pity on you and kill you. But that won’t be for a while.”_

_“You can’t leave me in here forever, it will eventually wear off.”_

_Wanda chuckled slightly, “There’s a reason why they locked me in the base. I’m more powerful than any of you realize. Enjoy your family time.”_

In the cell, Wanda watched with mild fascination as Zemo stumbled back to the bench in his containment unit and slid to the floor. His eyes were wide, unfocused, and he was muttering to himself. All the color had drained from his face and his hands were clawing at things that weren’t real.

Alarms began sounding, signaling that it was time for her to leave, but she was rooted to her spot in front of him. Wanda was driving him mad, torturing him with the memory of his worst moment.

And she loved every second of it. Even more than that, she finally felt alive. 

Laughing to herself, Wanda turned and strolled out of the cell. Zemo’s cry for help echoing behind her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers learn about Zemo.

“Boss, you’ve got a call from Secretary Ross.”

Tony sighed but didn’t look up from his blueprints, “Tell him that I still have no idea how they got out of Raft or where they went. For the fiftieth time.”

“It’s not about Raft. It’s about Zemo.” FRIDAY replied.

Tony glanced up from his blueprints, trying not to be overwhelmed by the flood of emotions the man’s name pulled within him, “Alright, patch him through.”

“Stark.”

“You sound tense, General,” Tony said, flicking through a few design options for the next upgrade of Rhodey’s braces.

“One of your rogue teammates broke into the Berlin headquarters and got to Zemo.”

Tony’s head flew up to meet the Secretary’s gaze over the video call, “Come again?”

A file transfer opened another screen and images began to flick in front of Tony. A woman with a cap on, walking inside the headquarters. The same woman making her way inside the control room. Over two dozen agents knocked out. Zemo, huddled against the back corner of his cell, eyes wide and crazed, mouth open in a noiseless scream.

“Holy shit,” Tony muttered, standing and moving closer to the screen, “Wanda did this?”

“Yes. Nothing we’ve done has been able to get through to Zemo. He’s gone insane.”

Tony let out a low whistle, impressed despite himself. Zemo was a horrible guy so he couldn’t feel too bad, but to drive him off the deep end? That was slightly terrifying, “So why not put him down? Isn’t that the humane thing to do?”

“Zemo’s knowledge of the Winter Soldier project is potentially invaluable. We were days away from getting him to talk. If there’s any chance we can pull him back and get the answers we need, we’re keeping him alive.”

“Right, of course, how dense of me,” Tony muttered, turning his attention back to the man, “So are you just calling to keep me in the loop or do you want something?”

Ross scowled, “I want to find that girl and bring her in. I need all the information you have on her.”

Shrugging, Tony sat back down, “It’s not much. Her powers are hard to scan and quantify so even I’m not completely sure what she’s capable of. FRIDAY, send him what we have on Wanda.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

…

The news got to Natasha via a contact she had deep within the CIA. And when she learned what happened, she wanted to strangle someone.

She climbed out of her ‘borrowed’ car and climbed the stairs of a seedy German motel, stopping outside door 17. She rapped on the door twice, then once, then four times. It swung open immediately.

Natasha slipped inside, nodding at Sam as he closed and locked the door behind her, “Fellas.”

“Hey, Nat, thanks for coming out here,” Steve said, “What do you have?”

She dropped a file on the bed, turning to pull off her jacket and hang it up. A pot of coffee sat on the dresser and Natasha gratefully poured herself a cup as Steve and Sam glanced through the file.

“There’s no way she did this,” Sam muttered, glancing up at her, “He’s insane?”

“Frothing at the mouth, according to my contact,” She replied, leaning against the dresser, “Keeps screaming about his wife and son, doesn’t react to external stimuli, they’ve had to force feed him through a tube for three days now.”

Steve flipped through the file, “How did she get in?”

“Worker’s entrance. A security guard there said he saw a woman with a cap and then he says he spaced out for a few minutes and she was gone.” Natasha said, “She knocked out a room of 30 people. When they were discovered it took nearly 24 hours for them to come to.”

The file was dropped back on the bed, “So she got to Zemo. Do you think she’s done?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, “No. Do you?”

“No.” Steve sighed, “But who’s next?”

Sam shrugged, “Ross.”

The other two both turned to look at him and he expanded, “Zemo’s plan never would have worked as well if Ross hadn’t been so hell bent on getting us to be his dancing puppets. And then when we were taken to Raft he gave all the orders on her containment. If there’s anyone else she hates enough to do _that_ to, it would be Ross.”

“He’s right,” Steve muttered, “We need to get to her before she gets to him.”

“At least she hasn’t killed anyone. Yet.” Natasha added.

“Yet? I don’t think she has it in her to murder anyone, Nat.”

“How can you be so sure?” She moved forward, tapping the file with her fingers, “From my reports, killing Zemo would be a mercy at this point, and Ross isn’t going to let that happen. Not until his hand is forced. If Wanda had murdered Zemo she would have been doing him a courtesy.” Her eyes flicked up to Steve’s, “When we first met her, Wanda was ready to kill to get revenge, do you really think you managed to get rid of that blood thirst by being friendly for a few months?”

“People can change.” He replied.

Natasha shrugged, “Sure they can, and they do, but not always for the better.”

A tense silence fell on the room until Sam cleared his throat, “Regardless of whether or not she’s planning to kill him, she’s coming after Ross. We can’t exactly march up to him and demand to be part of his protective detail.”

“We can’t, but Tony can.” Natasha pointed out.

“The three of them against Wanda?” Steve mused, “That isn’t going to be pretty, and I don’t think they could hold her back for long.”

“It doesn’t have to be for long,” Sam said, “Just long enough. Can you get in touch with Tony?”


	7. Chapter 7

_“Lady, why did you help the metal man? Why didn’t you stop the sky from falling?” Empty eyes bore into her soul, “Do you know what it feels like to burn? It feels like this.”_

_Fire flared around, devouring the small house, her skin caught on fire and Wanda screamed, frantically trying to put it out. The little boy began to giggle, his eyes alight with mania and then he was shifting, changing into Pietro. Barely older than the little boy, burning in the ruins of their childhood home. The faulty missile was propped against the far wall, Stark’s name lit by the flames, the only thing untouched by the fire._

_“Is this what you wanted, Wanda?” He asked, “When you said you wanted power is this what you wanted?”_

_She opened her mouth to apologize, to tell Pietro that she would take back any action that had led to his death, to tell him that this was everything she never wanted-._

Wanda sat bolt upright, gasping for air as her eyes frantically cast around the room. The unfamiliar surroundings made her panic for a few moments before her brain caught up with her recent actions. She was in a small hotel, in a small town in Spain. Her surroundings were unfamiliar because they were new, but she was safe.

Well as safe as she could be, considering the circumstances.

She pulled back the blankets, shivering as cool air washed over her sweat soaked body. Bare feet touched a worn, wooden floor and Wanda moved to the window, opening it and leaning against the sill.

It was quiet here, peaceful. A few months ago Wanda would have considered settling down in this town and living her life as a normal citizen. But she had started down a certain path, and she wasn’t going to let it go unfinished.

Wanda let the last uneasy remnants of her nightmare roll off of her. Having access to everyone’s darkest fears allowed her to learn how best to ignore her own. She couldn’t afford to fall apart, not when her hardest choices were still ahead of her.

Every day for the week since she had paid Zemo a visit, Wanda hadn’t been able to get a full night’s sleep. It wasn’t the guilt of what she had done to him, that Wanda could live with gladly, it was the fact that she had used the little boy’s suffering to get her way. The fact that, as much as Ultron had been an invention of Stark’s, it had been rushed by her actions.

Either way, she did not doubt Tony would have eventually built the monster; Steve once told her that Tony had been working towards creating Ultron for nearly a year. But perhaps if Ultron had taken longer to be created, it would not have gotten so far in his plan. Without hers and Pietro’s help, Ultron likely would have been stopped much sooner.

And that little boy, his death was on her hands.

One of many. Wanda no longer kept count. Besides, she planned to have more deaths on her hands by the time she was finished. These ones she would revel in.

Ross would be the most difficult. She didn’t doubt that he was out for her head after what she did to Zemo, and she expected the Avengers would know who her next target was. Wanda would rip through them all, if she had to, but the next person on her list was Ross, she had no intentions of putting him further back. ­

The sky began to lighten, moving from pitch black to lighter shades of blue until, finally, rays of yellow were thrown into relief. With a sigh, Wanda pushed herself upright, she had a lot to do, and not much time to get it done.


	8. Chapter 8

Tony strolled into the conference room, trying to ignore how empty the space felt. The whole base felt empty. First it was with the disappearance of Bruce, and Thor leaving to deal with whatever shit went down in Asgard. Tony thought he could handle that, and he did, until the rest of the team burst at the seams.

Now, waiting for him in the conference room were three people. He’d call them men, but he had managed to pull Parker away from school so the term wasn’t quite accurate. Peter sat, perched at the edge of his seat, buzzing with nervous energy as he glanced around. He hadn’t been asked to come in since the fight at the airport.

Across from Peter was Vision, wearing another ridiculous business casual outfit, as if he was an accountant and not a super-powered android. His head was clearly elsewhere, his gaze focused on the far wall and his face expressionless.

Rhodey was in the door closest to the door. Despite Tony’s best work, they were still struggling to find a build in his braces that could help him walk without major complications. He gave Tony a smile and Tony clapped him on the back, sweeping his gaze of the room.

“We’ve got a major situation.” Tony said.

“It seems we never congregate for anything less.”

Tony resisted glaring at Vision, just barely, and continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “Remember our old friend Helmut Zemo? Yeah, the guy that helped ruin the team. Well he’s dead.” All eyes flew to Tony and he amended, “Well, not actually dead. He’s alive, but he’s absolutely out of his mind. Insane. Might as well be dead, and Wanda was the one that did it.”

Now he had everyone’s undivided attention. Peter frowned, “Which one is Wanda?”

“The one with the red magic, keep up, kid.” Tony replied, waving a hand towards the screens.

Intuitive as always, FRIDAY pulled a picture of Wanda on the screen, “We met on bad terms, clearly she took the team’s breakup kind of hard, now she’s on a rampage. This is what Zemo looks like now.”

A video replaced the picture. There was no sound, but that was almost for the better. Zemo was twitching on the floor, his hands gripping at his hair, tugging. There were bald patches where he had doubtless hair from his head and his shirt was torn open, revealing bright red scratch marks down his chest.

Rhodey let out a low whistle, “What happened to him?”

“Our friends in the CIA aren’t sure. They have video, but she’s just standing there the whole time. If I had a guess, I’d say she did something to his head with her powers. But I don’t know what.”

Peter frowned, “Well if she could do that the whole time, why didn’t she do that at the airport?” The other three men looked at him and he shrugged, “I just mean, she seemed pretty cool even though she was on the other team. Did something happen?”

“You _were_ there when we arrested them and handed them over to Ross, right?” Rhodey asked.

“Yeah, but prison doesn’t turn people into sadistic torturers.” Peter replied.

“He’s right,” Vision spoke up, “Do you know what happened during their imprisonment?”

Tony’s eyes flicked between the pair before shrugging, “No, not really. What’s important is that Wanda isn’t done. She’s going after Ross next and we have to stop her.”

Rhodey raised his eyebrows, clearly able to read through Tony’s deflection about the prison, but thankfully he let it slide, “How do we know this?’

“Rogers called me. Said he, Sam and Natasha all agree that Ross is her next target. He _is_ the one who jailed her.”

“Well going by that logic, would that not make all three of us potential targets?” Vision asked.

“Luckily for us, Wanda’s angry, not crazy. We do have a little bit more background with her than Ross does, and we had her best interests in mind. FRIDAY, give me the odds on Wanda going after Ross next.”

“It’s a near 100% certainty, boss.”

Tony clapped his hands together, “So, our job is to get to Wanda before she gets to Ross. We’re having no luck in tracking her at the moment so our best bet is to stage a trap, pull her out into the open.”

Peter raised his hand and Tony rolled his eyes, “This isn’t class, Parker. What is it?”

“I, uh, I promised Aunt May I’d be home in time for dinner tonight. We’ve both been so busy…”

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Tony said, “Go eat dinner, meet back with us tomorrow as soon as you can to get updated on the plan.” Peter nodded and jumped up, grabbed his goddamn backpack, and rushed out of the room. Tony watched him go before turning back, “The rest of us need to come up with a plan.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony tries to keep Wanda from getting to her next target.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Stark, you and I have no business together until you can give me a location on one of your rogue _teammates_ ” The last word was spat out of Ross’s mouth as he stalked through the hallway.

Tony sighed, “If you would just listen to me for a moment, I’m trying to tell you that I know Maximoff’s next target.”

The secretary raised an eyebrow but didn’t break stride, “You came all the way out here to tell me that? Well, who is it?”

“I need your word you’ll take her alive.”

Ross laughed, “After what she did to Zemo? The guy is in diapers now and she’s a criminal with dangerous powers.” He stopped walking abruptly, eyes zeroing in on Tony’s for the first time since he arrived, “The brat’s coming for me, isn’t she? Boy, you sure know how to pick them at the Avengers.”

Biting back half a dozen smart responses Tony said, “At least let me and the team be on a protective detail. Rhodey, Vision and the kid.”

“The kid whose name you won’t tell me?”

“Ross, look, I’m asking you nicely. This never happens.”

“The last time I let you take care of things, Romanoff double-crossed you. Your track record is shit.”

Tony rushed around Ross, stopping his movement, “You saw Zemo, you know half of what Maximoff can do and she’s out for blood. Putting us on the frontlines is your best chance for minimal collateral.”

Ross glared at him, “Since you’re clearly not going to leave me alone…your team has the frontline. If she gets past you, my men put a few dozen bullets in her head. Got it?”

“Thank you,” Tony rushed off, pulling out his phone, “FRIDAY, tell the team we got the greenlight.” He hesitated before adding, “Tell the rogues too, and tell them that if they interfere, we take them in.”

…

The tricky part of standing guard for Wanda was that Tony had absolutely no idea when, or where, she would come from. Since Ultron he had been taking a backseat in Avenger operations, rarely going into the field with the rest of the team and not taking part in most of the training. Wanda had been trained by Romanoff and Rogers, and Tony couldn’t really think of a better duo for someone to learn under, but it meant that she had learn from the best.

“Uh, Mr. Stark?” Peter’s voice slid into his thoughts and Tony pulled himself back to the present.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Tony?” He asked, “What’s up?”

“We’ve been here for four hours, are you sure she’s coming?”

“Positive.” Tony replied. He knew Wanda was coming for Ross, the _when_ of it all was still flexible. If Natasha hadn’t taught Wanda how to avoid facial recognition, it would make his life infinitely easier.

Tony sighed, leaning against the side of the building, grateful he had opted to wait without his suit. He scanned the front of the building, Ross was currently doing business with NATO in London. The mass of people operating in the building, and the civilians passing by, made the location a nightmare for any sort of battle.

Peter was lounging in a tree, while Rhodey was keeping an eye out from atop the building. Vision was circulating, invisible.

“Boss, I’m picking up an anomaly.” FRIDAY said.

The warning was a few seconds too late, as Vision was struck by red magic and flew backwards, colliding into the building. Tony pushed himself upright, “FRIDAY, where is she?”

A booted foot shot into his peripheral vision and Tony hopped backwards, avoiding the attack and meeting Wanda’s gaze. She had cut her hair so it brushed above her shoulders and she wore a police uniform. Her eyes were blocked by sunglasses and her face shadowed by the hat she was wearing. Her hands glittered with magic.

“Get out of my way, Tony.” She said, “People will get hurt.”

“Or they could not get hurt and you could drop the vendetta.” Tony suggested, arms up in a placating gesture.

She snorted, “And get thrown back into Raft? I’ll pass.”

Web shot out and gripped one of Wanda’s legs, hoisting her into the air as Peter dropped down to stand next to Tony, “That wasn’t so bad.”

“Don’t get cocky, kid.” Tony muttered.

From her position hanging upside down, both her sunglasses and hat toppled to the ground and Tony felt a slight shiver go down his spine at the unadulterated venom in the woman’s gaze. Wanda’s magic wrapped around her body, the energy sliding in-between the gaps of the webbing and ripping it to pieces, she dropped to the ground and Peter was tugged into the air and tossed behind her.

She glared at Tony before whirling to dodge Rhodey’s attacks. Activating his armor, Tony swore to himself. He knew Wanda was, objectively, the strongest member on the team. He had wanted to avoid a full out battle at all costs, but Wanda didn’t seem to share his concerns.

“Wanda, please.” Vision said, floating to the ground, “We don’t need to continue fighting each other.”

Wanda considered him, her eyes flicking from Vision to the other three fighters before her lips quirked into a deadly smirk, “You’re right, Vis. We don’t.”

Her eyes flashed red and the stone on Vision’s forehead flashed the same color. He stared at her for a long moment before turning to face the rest of his team.

Tony frowned at Vision, “Uh, you with us, Vision?”

The android tilted his head and a beam of energy blasted Tony backwards. Swearing, Tony righted himself in the air, “We’ve got to avoid collateral damage at all costs.”

“Does he know that?” Peter asked, dodging an attack.

“Just focus, kid,” Rhodey said.

Vision flew forward, taking Rhodey head on and slamming them into the side of the NATO building. They crashed through the side of the building and armed fighters began to stream out of the surrounding buildings, weapons pointed at Wanda and the hole where Vision was emerging.

Things were going from bad to worse at a rapid speed and Tony scowled, “FRIDAY, get me a line to Ross. Rhodes, are you okay?”

“I’m going to feel that in the morning, but I’m okay.” Rhodey replied.

“Stark.” Ross’ voice filtered into his ears, “I could’ve sworn you said something about minimal collateral damage. What the hell are you doing?”

“She’s controlling Vision.” Tony said, leaping sideways to avoid a blast of energy and shooting into the air to avoid the car Wanda had flying in his direction, “Fighting both of them is suicide.”

Ross snorted, “Stand down, once my men are done with her she won’t be able to control a fly.”

Tony clenched his teeth, watching the rapid analysis of the situation that was scrolling across his vision. FRIDAY was compiling information of all Ross’ fighters and calculating how bad of a chance they had against Wanda and a weaponized Vision.

“Can’t do that, Ross. We stand down and Wanda gets to you.” Without a word from him, FRIDAY cut off the communication immediately, letting Tony miss what would doubtless be a verbal trashing from the Secretary.

By the time he was able to turn his full attention back to the battle, Wanda was nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo this chapter is really, really late, but in my defense, life was kicking my ass.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda crosses off the second name on her list.

There were no windows in the room, but light still managed to filter in from to the top of the flimsy door. The abandoned building was nearly five hours away from the NATO offices she had broken into. Far enough out of the way that she shouldn’t be registered on Stark’s initial scans, but the fact that she was still in the same city was a risk. She needed to move quickly and get out of London, but a little part of her wanted to savor this moment.

Across the small room, slumped into a corner was General Ross, slowly coming to. He wasn’t restrained, considering that he had no hope of escaping her. Wanda lazily twitched her fingers, red magic floating around them as she manipulated the small set of wooden blocks she had been travelling with since she left Wakanda. They helped her think, grounded her back to when she first got her powers.

The man’s eyes blinked open and she waited, extremely patient for someone who had NATO and the Avengers on her tail. She could see him try and reconcile his last memory of barking orders at soldiers with his current situation. His eyes taking in his surroundings before they settled on her. There was a jolt of fear, as tangible to Wanda as the building itself, but it was quickly restrained and he shifted slightly.

His eyes flicked from her to study the door, calculating the possibility of escape. He stretched his legs, no doubt wondering if they would support him in a dash to the door.

“It’s a waste of time.” Wanda murmured, “My powers are much faster than your legs can carry you. Otherwise you would be restrained.”

There was no response. Ross ignored her, his focus still on trying to understand what had happened, where they were, and how he could escape. She let him puzzle through it for a few minutes, content to lounge in the darkness, her focus still on the wooden blocks floating in the air before her.

“When I first received my powers,” Wanda’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper as her fingers flicked, making the blocks move, “They gave me toys similar to these to practice with. No matter how tenuous my control was, I could not harm wood. At first, I focused on the beauty of my magic, making the blocks fly. But I did not undergo those experiments for beauty’s sake.” She squeezed a hand into a fist and the boxes seemed to implode, wood dust floated to the ground and created small piles, Wanda’s face was expressionless as she watched the mess.

“You’re a freak,” Ross snarled, now staring straight at her, “You should be locked up in a lab somewhere.”

Her eyes flicked to him, “I was created in a lab. I left. Do you know what I’m going to do next?”

Ross raised an eyebrow, “How the hell could I know what _you’re_ going to do next, you’re insane.”

“No, I’m angry.” Wanda replied, standing as a small smile crossed her face, “Which is even worse. To answer my previous question, Secretary Ross, about what I’m going to do next.” She knelt in front of the man, “I’m going to kill you.”

He snorted, “You’d kill me when you didn’t have the guts to kill Zemo?”

“Zemo wanted to die,” Wanda said, “Why would I give him what he wanted?”

There it was again, fear rolled off of Ross in waves but the man kept his bravado. His snarl didn’t filter for a second as he said, “I served as a General in the United States Armed Forces. I led a team to create and then hunt down the goddamn Hulk. Do you think I’m afraid of death?”

“You’re afraid of things you cannot control. Of those of us whose powers you can’t have, can’t understand, and are unable to contain. I could taste your fear in Raft,” Wanda’s voice was a low hiss, her eyes boring into Ross’, “You were terrified of me, you still are.”

“People like you have too much power, someone needs to put you in check.”

Wanda blinked, amazed, “People like me? What about people like you? Ordinary men who are given the power of millions. Who keeps you in check? My country died long before Ultron because men with too much power decided to play chess with the lives of innocents, _Secretary_ Ross. If I am a monster, you are my equal.”

“Little girls have no business in the complexities of international politics.” Was the calm reply.

She studied him for a few moments longer before pulling a long dagger from inside her left boot and straightening, “You’re right. The intrigue of politics is beyond me. After all, I’m not trying to make a statement, I’m just trying to get revenge.”

She flipped the dagger in the air, catching it with her powers rather than her hand and letting it hover at eye level. Her attention was already shifting to the world outside this building, where her face was likely being plastered on television as a wanted fugitive.

“What you did to Zemo, that’s highly classified. But kill me and you’ll be hunted to the corners of the globe.” Ross said.

Wanda half turned and met his gaze, “I know.”

The dagger flew forward, as if shot out of a rifle, and buried itself into Ross’ throat. An explosive gasp left his lips and his hands made a half aborted gesture to tug at the blade. His eyes didn’t leave her own as his mouth opened and closed, trying to speak.

Rolling her eyes, Wanda moved to the opposite corner, picking up a backpack, hat and sunglasses and quickly putting everything on. Once prepared, she stepped back towards Ross and dropped down to his eye level.

“Don’t worry, I decided to leave them a body to bury.” Wanda tugged the dagger from his body and tossed it across the room.

Without the stopper of the blade, Ross would bleed out in minutes, but she didn’t have time to watch and gloat.

Standing, Wanda left the room, seemingly deaf to the gurgling of Ross’ attempted pleas behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my word document this chapter was titled 'Bye, bye, ross' because I'm a child.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team tries to figure out Wanda's next target.

He had been staring at the ringing phone for far too long now, aware that any second he was going to miss the call but still dreading what he was about to hear. With a soft sigh, Clint picked up the burner and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Clint.” That’s all Natasha said, it was all that she had to say because they both knew what she was calling about.

“You’re sure it was her?” Clint asked, glancing at the television on the far side of the room. Currently the screen was off, but just hours before he had watched NATO declare Wanda Maximoff a dangerous fugitive for the murder of US Secretary of State, Thaddeus Ross.

“You saw the news footage.” Was the reply.

Clint swore softly, “How did she even get to him? Especially after what happened with Zemo.”

“How do you know about Zemo?”

“Come on, Nat, you’re not the only one worried about the team. I have contacts just like you do.” Clint replied.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a little bit before Natasha sighed, “What’s her next play?”

“Don’t know.”

“You can bullshit Steve, but not me, Clint. The only other person who understands Wanda better than you is Pietro, and he’s six feet underground. What’s her next play?”

Clint stared at the dark television screen for a long moment, “I already told Cap that I was staying out of anymore messes. I’ve got to take care of my family.”

“I’m not asking you to get involved, I just need a name.”

…

The punching bag was the only comfort in the whole safe house. Steve’s punches were direct, controlled, everything his emotions weren’t at the moment.

“Now here’s a familiar sight.” The voice came from the door and Steve held back a sigh.

He didn’t reply, his punches never faltering as footsteps sounded behind him. Approaching, measuring. Natasha was as cool as if it was another day at Avenger’s HQ and Steve was merely in the gym because he hadn’t slept.

“Did you get anything out of Clint?”

“Is the sky blue?”

He punched the bag again, this time too hard and it swung dangerously on its hook. A sign to stop for a few moments and Steve splayed a hand against the leather. He stared at his palm, remembering seeing another hand doing the same thing in Wakanda, trying to find calm in the gym.

“What did he say?”

Natasha stepped around so that she was in his line of sight, her hands were shoved in the pockets of an oversized hoodie, “Steve, maybe you should take the backseat on this one. You’re too close.”

That made him look away from the bag, “She was there in Wakanda with me, Natasha. I had the chance to notice something was wrong. T’challa figured it out before I even had a clue. I’m not running away from this.”

“This isn’t about you,” She pointed out, “You’re in here beating yourself up because you missed the signs but nothing about what’s going on has anything to do with you. It’s about Wanda, it’s about the fact that she murdered a high-profile American politician. Maybe someday it will be about the system that failed her but right now, we need to bring her in.”

Steve met Natasha’s gaze for a long moment before turning away, “What did Clint have for you?”

“Stark.”

“What about him?”

“She’s going after Stark next.”

Steve felt like the temperature in the room plummeted and he whirled back around to see if Natasha was joking, if she was testing how he’d react. There was nothing but resignation in her gaze but he had to make sure, “Why the hell would she want to kill Tony?”

“Isn’t that where this all started?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve pays Tony a visit.

More than once over the last few months Tony had commented on what a pain in the ass answering to Ross was. In the aftermath of Ross’ murder, he quickly realized that reporting to Ross was significantly better than trying to juggle the searing demands of the head of every major political and security organization that could find his phone number.

The team had been subject to two different hearings, one conducted by the UN and one by the Senate, as politicians searched for someone to blame. Tony had also been dragged into a hearing by the Secret Service, it was an experience he would have preferred never to have.

Everyone, from the media to the government to the rest of the team, had the same question. What the hell happened? How had a girl gone from being an Avenger to murdering the Secretary of State in cold blood?

Tony would sleep better at night if he knew the answer.

It had taken him ten minutes to get around Maximoff’s magic and to snap Vision out of her voodoo, that had been enough time for Wanda to get to Ross and vanish off the radar. Between Tony’s and Rhodey’s suits, Vision, and government officials, it had taken twenty minutes to find where they had gone. Tony had been first on the scene, and the scene was ugly.

“Boss, you’ve got a visitor.”

Tony pulled the tool out of his mouth, not moving from the suit he was currently working on, “Unless it’s the President, I’m not here.”

“It’s Rogers.”

His head whipped up to the screen that FRIDAY opened to his right and let out a low whistle, “He’s out of his mind.”

“Should I let him in?”

“Might as well.” Tony muttered, “Keep it quiet too, I don’t need the CIA showing up next. Send him down to me.”

Tony watched on the screen as the door to the facility unlocked and let Steve in. He paused just inside the door, head tilted slightly as he listened to FRIDAY’s instructions, before he made his way through the hallways towards Tony’s lab.

With a sigh, Tony waved away the screen and got back to work on his adjustments. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of Steve showing up at his front door and just seeing the soldier over the screen was calling to mind the last time they had been in the same room together.

“Hey Tony.” The words were so simple, as if it was just another day at Avenger’s Tower. As if everything hadn't fallen to shit.

“Cap.” Tony muttered as he squinted at some circuits.

“I’m pretty sure my military rank’s been completely stripped.” Steve replied, “So, not a captain anymore.”

“You do know that you're one of the most wanted men alive. Why are you here?”

“Wanda. We need to stop her.”

Tony laughed, “There’s no ‘we’ in this, Cap, there hasn’t been a ‘we’ for months because you chose Barnes over the team.”

“Tony, now’s not the time-.”

“When is the time? When _we_ send Wanda back to lock up and you vanish again and send another heart felt note so you don't have to deal with my feelings?” Tony cut him off, finally turning to look at where Steve was standing in the middle of his lab, “Did you enjoy your stroll through the base?It's a little hard not to notice that it’s empty, Rogers. I poured everything into this damn team, I…I lost Pepper because I was so focused on giving everyone better equipment, higher tech gear for protection, upgrading the suits so we would be ready for whatever came at us. And in a week I was set back four fucking years. On top of that, you couldn’t even keep Maximoff inside the fancy little sanctuary you picked up from T’challa. Now I’ll be lucky if we’re allowed to mobilize ever again. And since I didn’t get to disappear off the radar, I’m the one that evidently needs to have all the answers. Unlike you, I don’t get to hide in Wakanda.” Tony’s whole body was shaking, his fists clenched at his sides as he glared at Steve.

There was no answer right away. Steve just stared at Tony, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. His face was unreadable throughout Tony’s entire rant. The silence stretched out, an almost physical presence; the distance between both men in the lab only a fraction of the gap that had grown between them.

Eventually, Steve dropped his gaze, “I’m not sorry that I went after Bucky. There was a time when Bucky was all I had. I don’t expect you to understand, but Bucky we became friends because he appreciated me for me, not for what the serum made me into, not for the shield, not for the title. I’m sorry that the team suffered because of it, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you the truth about Howard’s death, and I’m sorry that you have to deal with the fall out alone.”

Blue eyes scanned the room before meeting Tony’s once again, “But it’s not all on me, Tony, and you know it. We let Zemo and Ross tear us apart, we didn't fight it. If we, all of us, had tried harder, the team would have survived anything.I may not have been able to keep Wanda in Wakanda, but I’m not the one that treated her like a weapon instead of a human.”

Tony snorted, “So Ross’ death is on me, then?”

“Ross’ death is on Wanda. But you can’t ignore the fact that she went from desperately trying to save lives to taking them. That’s not a switch that flips overnight without a reason.”

“Why are you here? If you know where Wanda is, you should've just sent a set of coordinates.”

“I don’t know where she is, I just know who she’s coming after next.”

“Still something you could’ve sent in a message.” Tony replied, not budging.

“Tony, she’s coming after you.”

Tony tilted his head, “So you’re telling me that her hit list consists of Zemo, the guy that made it his personal mission to tear apart the avengers; Ross, the guy that put her in a shock collar and locked her up for just trying to do the right thing; and me, the guy that gave her a new place to live when Sokovia went belly up? That's not adding up to me.”

“Pietro died, Tony.”

“Yeah, I know. I paid for his funeral.”

Steve sighed, “Pietro died, and instead of mourning she threw herself into her work, and then she lost everything that she had built. You of all people should know that not everyone responds to grief in a logical fashion. Did she ever tell you how her parents died?”

“No.”

“A Stark missile landed in their apartment.”

Tony felt his heart drop to his stomach, “No wonder they had such an issue with me.”

He studied his lab, considering his possibilities. Tony already knew that Rhodey, Parker, and Vision weren’t enough to take Wanda down. Every major government agency had a kill on sight order for her, and there were enough Maximoff death’s on his conscience. It took only a matter of seconds for Tony to realize what the best course of action was, and it was standing right in front of him.

Turning his attention back to his suit, Tony said, “I assume Romanoff and Wilson are somewhere nearby?”

“Yes.”

“They’ll need to get here if we’re going to come up with a plan to stop Wanda. Can you get to Clint?”

“He’s sitting this one out.”

Tony shrugged, “Whatever suits him. Everyone can bunk in their old rooms. Try to get there and back without getting arrested.”

Steve left the lab without another word. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So school started again this week and I'm looking at applying to law school in the winter. However, I won't be slowing down on updating this fic, I'll just be updating on either Thursday or Saturday each week (so now I'll just be on a regular schedule look at that). 
> 
> Ngl, I teared up a little bit writing Tony's rant, all of my children are so sad and tired.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda's conviction falters.

It felt different. Killing someone on purpose instead of killing them on accident. Wanda had never considered herself as someone who killed.

She knew that there were deaths that fell on her shoulders. People who had gotten in Ultron’s crosshairs, the civilians in Lagos, even Pietro; these people lost their lives through a consequence of her actions. But it had never been her intention to take their lives. The professionals would call it collateral damage, such an objective way of looking at it.  She had been able to accept their deaths by telling herself she had made a mistake, or she had been trying to do good. Even so, she was still learning how to shake the guilt, to go through her days without remembering the number of lives she had helped cut short.

But Ross.

His death was invigorating.

His death was on her conscience and Wanda had slept better the nights following than she ever had after Sokovia or Lagos.

As she made her way through streets, dodging surveillance with an ease that would make her teachers proud, there was a spring to her step. The number of people like her, Enhanced people, that would be spared Ross’ injustice made her smile.

It was this high that pulled her through the misery of hiding from every government agency on the planet.

The day after Ross’ death, she cut her hair so it brushed just below her ears and died it pitch black. She bought a pair of thick rimmed glasses and stole a withering beanie from a student. Her clothes were too big, distorting the size of her body as she waded through train stations and magicked her way onto an airplane.

It wasn’t until she stepped foot in the United States for the first time since she was carted off to Raft that the gravity of the situation caught up to her.

She had _murdered_ the Secretary of State in cold blood.

If anyone managed to catch her she could only assume that she would be executed. Even if she wanted to live a normal life when all this was over, she had ruined any chance of that happening. Wanda had nowhere left to go to.

Turning on her heel, Wanda rushed to the nearest restroom and locked herself in a stall, trying to regulate her breathing. The last thing she could do was have a meltdown in an airport. The terminal was swarming with civilians and security agents, all high strung, just waiting for something out of the ordinary. Even her rush to the bathroom could have turned heads. She needed to leave as soon as possible, before someone caught wind of her presence.

But she couldn’t breathe.

Wanda tore off the jacket she was wearing and leaned against the side of the stall, trying to keep calm.

What was she _doing_?

Just a month ago she had been living in sanctuary in Wakanda. Now she was traveling in the dead of night, eating in the corner of shady bars, and sleeping just long enough that she wouldn’t collapse.

Wanda dug through the backpack she had been carrying since she left Wakanda and pulled out the only personal item she had brought with her.

It was an old photograph.

The fading and crinkled picture depicted a family of four. The mother and father’s smiles were thin, tired; their faces lined prematurely to age them beyond their years. Wanda couldn’t remember ever noticing how stressed they always were, nor how they often forwent meals so that their children could eat full servings. She could pick out the significance of those details now, many years too late.

Sitting on the couple’s laps were two toddlers. Pietro was beaming at the camera, revealing more than one missing tooth. She was half asleep, leaning back on her father’s chest.

The Maximoffs were poor, their apartment didn’t have reliable heating in the winter, her and her brother only ever got hand-me-down clothes, meat was portioned out carefully as her mother tried to make it last as long as possible. It was far from the most ideal of family lives, but they were happy. And they were together. They had deserved better.

Taking a steadying breath, Wanda folded the photograph and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. She had already passed the point of no return. Turning back now would be a waste of everything she had done up to this point.

She pushed herself upright, standing still in the middle of the bathroom stall. There was little doubt in her mind that the Avengers would know where she was headed next. They would all be waiting for her when she arrived.

If Wanda had to rip through the other Avengers to get at Stark, she would.

She still had one more debt to collect and God help anyone who got in her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the late update! School was dragging me through the mud so I passed on posting last week.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda confronts Tony

“Boss, you’ve got a phone call incoming.”

Tony lanced up from the enormous stack of paperwork he had been served by Congress, “From…?”

“Unidentified caller.”

“Unidentified caller? With all the programming you have you can’t give me a back trace?”

“It’s a burner. I’m good, I’m not a miracle worker. The call is coming in from New York. That’s all I’ve got.”

Tony ran his hand over his hair, considering the information for a moment before saying, “Alright, patch it through.”

“Here you go.”

There was a soft click that indicated the line had been put through, there was complete silence on the other end. Or rather, an absence of noise that wouldn’t exist if the caller was near the base or in New York City. Tony didn’t wait to hear from the other person, “I’m always flattered by a dedicated stalker, but usually they’re not this careful.”

“Hi, Tony.”

The voice was soft, the person clearly speaking under their breath. There was a trace of an accent, clearly she had worked hard to erase it, but she wasn’t the master that her teacher was.

“Wanda,” He replied, motioning towards the ceiling to tell FRIDAY to start recording, “It’s been a while.”

“I assume Steve already spoke to you.” She ignored his attempt at small talk, “Did he manage to convince you to let him help?”

“He showed up with his two shadows. They want to be the ones to bring you in.”

“Only two?” She repeated, sounding genuinely surprised. Briefly, Tony wondered what she was surprised about, but she forged on, “You could do this on Steve’s terms, or you could do it on mine.”

“ _It_ being you deciding to give me the same warm send-off that Ross got?”

“Warmer. I’m in New York. You can meet at the cemetery, alone, in four hours.”

Tony snorted, “I’m not an idiot, Maximoff. Why would I meet you without backup?”

“Because the alternative is having to listen as Steve gives orders. Going back to being the good little soldier. Except this time, you’re the damsel in distress, and the obvious liability. Perhaps they’ll lock you in your room,” A chill ran down Tony’s spine at the emotion behind the words, “I’m sure it’ll be for your own good.”

“Wanda, you’re being-.”

“Four hours,” She cut him off and the line cut before Tony could reply.

Tony leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath of air as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“Boss, should I let Captain Rogers know that you’re mobilizing?”

“Not a word,” Tony said, “Not even to Rhodey.”

There was a sound that oddly resembled a scoff, “You can’t take her on solo.”

“Remind me to delete some of your personality coding.” Tony muttered.

“I’ll do nothing of the kind.”

Tony glared at the ceiling, even though he had teased the other avengers for doing the very same, sometimes he missed JARVIS’ more subtle jabs, “Get the suit on standby for deployment.” He said, getting out of the chair.

“The protocols to combat her magic are nowhere near finished.”

“Unlike Ross, I actually have a rapport with Wanda. Hopefully, I can talk her down.”

There was no reply from Friday, clearly her silence was evidence of her continued disapproval.

 

 

 

The cemetery was properly deserted. Tony had originally picked it for just that reason. He didn’t know how often Wanda visited her brother’s grave, but he had wanted it to be close enough to the base for her to walk to, and private enough that she didn’t get harassed by people with strong opinions on the Avengers.

“Steve wanted that.” Her voice came from the tree to his right.

Tony turned and glanced up to where Wanda sat on higher branch, “Come again?”

“The location of the cemetery. You paid for the funeral but Steve made all of the arrangements, with Clint’s help. You didn’t care about the specifics, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Right…” Tony held out the word, “But I did pay for it. Evidently that isn’t worth anything, though.”

Her lips curled into a wry smile, “How much money do you have, Tony?”

“I’d have to ask my accountant,” He shrugged, “A few billion dollars.”

“What is two thousand dollars to a man who could buy a small country?” She asked, considering him, “You act like I should be grateful because you tried to throw money at my problems. What does that do? Money never brought your mother back, it never made you happy.”

Tony rocked back on his heels at the harsh words, “Alright, I’ve been impersonal with you. That deserves a death warrant?”

Wanda’s gaze lazily moved past his to study the empty cemetery, she raised a hand and it sparkled with magic, but it seemed to be idle, her powers flicking across her fingers as she spoke. “I’m not here to justify myself to you. From how you handled me after Lagos I know we’ll never see eye-to-eye, and that is more than fine. It’s not as if you’ll live long enough for it to be a problem.”

“Wanda, just, stop for a second. I can help you.”

“The same way you helped me when you put me on house arrest? Or when you handed me over to Ross?”

Tony swore under his breath, he had figured he could talk her around, but she wasn’t budging, “Look, I know-.”

“Suit up, Stark.”

“Wanda-.”

“I don’t have any problem killing you unarmed.”

Tony stared up at her. Wanda’s eyes were hard, unyielding. She wasn’t bluffing. Tony held out an arm and his armor latched onto his wrist, building quickly around his body. The moment he was online he spoke, “FRIDAY, get me some backup.”

“On their way.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Did you go behind my back?”

“I’m not programmed to let you get yourself killed.”

“I’ll deal with you later,” Tony muttered, turning his attention up to where Wanda hadn’t move a muscle, “Give me an ETA on their arrival.”

“Five minutes.”

Wanda jumped out of the tree, using her magic is to float down to the ground. Tony shifted on his feet, waiting for her to attack. She didn’t seem to be in any rush, her steps were slow and measured as she made her way towards him, her magic still flickering through her fingers. Every muscle in his body was on edge and Tony waited for her to take the first shot.

Instead, she walked past him and knelt in front of Pietro’s grave. She bowed her head in silence for a moment before getting to her feet again.

“Not to complain, but I thought you were planning to kill me?”

A hollow laugh was his answer and she made her way towards the lake that backed up against the edge of the cemetery, “Have you always had a death wish?”

Tony opened his mouth to answer and was cut off by a call from the base. Steve. Scowling, he answered the line, “I have my hands full right now, do me a favor and save the lecture until this is handled.”

“Tony, you need to get out of there.”

“I can hold my ground until you get here.”

“She’s tearing apart the base. It’s all coming towards you. If you don’t get out now you’re dead.”

Tearing apart the base? Tony studied Wanda, she didn’t look like she was performing any extraneous magic. The scans FRIDAY was running on the woman’s output levels were higher than he would expect for her to just flick her fingers, but to take apart the base took a whole different level of output.

Tony shifted on his feet, turning towards where the base would be, “FRIDAY, get me a visual on the base.”

“Boss, this isn’t pretty.”

A screen popped up in to the right of his display and Tony swore. The base was being torn apart. Slabs of metal and stone were peeling off from the closest end of the building and floating out of view, presumably towards the cemetery. Red magic covered each chunk that was peeled apart and the few personnel still staffed there were evacuating in a rush.  

Tony turned back to Wanda, trying to push away the sudden roll of fear that covered him. She seemed to pick it up anyways, her lips curling into a smirk. Suddenly, the idle magic around her fingers was a burst of red, her eyes glowing with her magic to make a much more threatening picture than she had been just moments ago. 

“I've learned a lot since the first time we fought,” She said, her words accented by a distant rumbling that grew louder by the second, "Ross was simple. A dagger was all it took, but you...you require a more forceful hand."

The rumble broke into a roar and Tony's HUD display flooded with red, alarms of every kind blinding his vision as a slab of metal rammed into his back and knocked him off his feet. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda's quest for revenge comes to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my now obligatory reminder that this is a work of fiction, about wanda, and that i don't agree with every character's actions but i'm just writing a story. please stop badgering me with your righteous fury over tony. it takes all the fun out writing of the fic

Tony flew across the cemetery, looking no more durable than the countless of toys Wanda destroyed when she was learning how to control her powers. He wasn’t given time to gather his senses and recover. While he was still in mid-air, a second slab of metal whacked down, almost like it was being used as a fly swatter. Tony dropped to the ground like a stone, the impact blowing up chunks of dirt and earth.

To her right, in the same direction where her projectiles were flying from, waves of emotion rolled towards her, a warning that she was no longer alone. Wanda leapt backwards, throwing up a force field to shield her from a blast from Rhodey’s suit. In the same breath, the same slab metal crushed the rising Tony back into the ground.

“Wanda!” Steve’s voice preceded his arrival, “Please, stop this!”

“Stay out of it,” She muttered, her voice not loud enough to reach him over the thundering noise of her ripping the Avenger’s base apart. It didn’t matter he heard her, she was about to make her point crystal clear.

A large pile of scraps from the base, both metal and concrete, raced into the cemetery and Wanda directed it towards Tony, dropping the whole thing on him without pause. There were shouts of shock from the Avengers and she glanced at them, raising an eyebrow, “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

“You just killed him!” Rhodey yelled, the anger in his voice was almost tangible.

Wanda slowly raised the arm that was held in Tony’s direction. The rubble of weight rose just high enough for them to see that the Iron Man suit was still, mostly, intact. She could feel the rush of relief from the others.

“Tony? Are you alright?”

“Relatively speaking.” Came the reply.

The rubble sank back down an inch, effectively keeping him trapped. Wanda considered her options. All of the fighters were on edge, no doubt ready to take her down the moment she gave them an opening.

“Why would I attack Tony this close to the base and not have a plan for when you all came running to his aid?” She prompted, eyes scanning them, “I did learn a thing or two about battle tactics.”

Recognizing that this was now a hostage situation, Natasha slowly raised her hands in a placating gesture, “What do you want?”

“I want all of you in one place,” She said, motioning with her free hand, “There, by the lake.”

When they didn’t move, the rubble sank another inch and Tony grunted in pain. At that bit of motivation, they all exchanged glances before doing as she said.

Now that she could see them all, and keep track of them, she rapidly considered her options. She had no intention of leaving without finishing what she set out to do. If she retreated now, she would never get another chance. Between all of them, they would be too on edge to let her coax Tony out of their safety again. The only problem was that keeping Tony alive was her only leverage, his death would doubtless plunge her into a ruthless fight with the others and she wasn’t confident she could take them all on solo.

As the expert on reading people, Natasha seemed to know that Wanda was realizing that her options were limited. “You’re in charge now, Wanda. Let’s not make this any worse.”

“Why do I feel like you’re quoting the SHIELD handbook on hostage negotiations?” She replied.

“It doesn’t make it less true. We can help-.”

“Shut up, Nat.” Wanda cut her off, dropping the rubble some more to make her point. Now the weight of the metal and concrete was, doubtless, pushing the suit into overdrive. Tony wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer, and each second she kept the mass suspended depleted her reserves.  

“Wanda.” The new voice came from the direction of the base and she felt a shiver run down her back. In her thoughts, she had missed his approach. Her head whipped around so she could make sure she wasn’t having an audio hallucination. How the hell did they get Clint here?

“Wanda. This isn’t really you.” He was saying. From her periphery, she could tell that the other Avengers were just as surprised by his appearance as she was.

“Why not? Isn’t this what everyone imagined? Isn’t this why I was locked up? Called a weapon?” She wished her voice would stop shaking.

He took a careful step towards, “You’re not a weapon. You’re a person who’s been through hell and you deserve better. But this? This isn’t how you get it.”

Scowling, she released just a bit more of her hold on the concrete. The crack of metal, the suit giving way underneath the weight, was sharp in the silence.

“Try harder, Barton.” She said, “It doesn’t look like he’ll last much longer.”

Clint’s eyes were flicking between her, Tony, and the frozen Avengers, obviously trying to find a way to shift the situation in his favor.

“Zemo was a piece of shit, I think we all agree on that,” He said, hand tightening slightly on his bow, “Ross…honestly he was a prick too. But Tony is one of us, Wanda. It’s a line you can’t go back once you’ve crossed.”

She laughed, not her usual light-hearted giggle, but a wild, manic sound, “Go back where? I murdered the goddamn Secretary of State, Clint! I’m enemy number one across the globe. I have nowhere to go, no home, no family.”

“We’re your family, Wanda.”

Wanda felt her blood boil, “Then why did Stark leave me to rot in that prison? Why was Vision determined to lock me away from the world?”

“Wanda-.”

Her head tilted to the side, “Sorry, Clint, you’re out of time.”

She dropped her hold on the remaining rubble without another second’s hesitation. The crunch of armor being squashed, of bones shattering, was the last thing she heard before she realized Clint had already raised his bow.

Wanda didn’t process the flash of movement until the arrow drove deep into her chest. She wasn’t sure she would have stopped it if she had seen it coming. She was finished. There was nothing left for her to live for. The sharp pain was welcome and she stumbled backwards, her hand reaching out for the first thing she could use to stabilize herself. The cool stone matched the spreading numbness of her body and her lips spread into a weary smile.

Around her, the Avengers were hovering around the mess of concrete and metal, throwing rubble away from the pile in a frantic attempt to get to Tony. Natasha was snapping into a phone, ordering an ambulance.

Throughout the chaos, Clint didn’t move, his attention fixed to where Wanda had sunk to her knees, and then collapsed onto the grass. Without the magnitude of her powers, she looked incredibly small. She was too young, barely more than a kid.

The stark black tombstone loomed over her lifeless body, the carving on this particular stone achingly familiar. Clint had ordered it himself.

“I’m sorry,” He murmured.

No one was listening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "May the bridges I have burned light my way back home."


	16. Epilogue

It had been a hard battle for the team to convince the government that Wanda deserved a proper funeral. Since Steve, Sam, Clint, and Natasha were still fugitives, they hadn’t been able to help in the negotiations at all.

In the end, it was Tony, making calls from his hospital bed, that got the authorities to turn a blind eye to the small service that took place on a chilly autumn morning. The only people present were the old team. T’challa had sent a bouquet of flowers, his presence at the funeral would have likely caused international outcry. To everyone else, Wanda Maximoff deserved her death. She was a criminal, and the world was better off without her.

Laura presided over the funeral. Not because it was a role she was used to, but because she seemed to be the only one that had been able to process the horrible events of the past few weeks. Her voice carried easily in the silence to the small group that stood around the coffin.

Her words flowed over Clint and past him, none of them cutting through his reverie as he stared straight ahead. His emotions were a storm that he hadn’t been able to begin unravelling.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Clint.” Rhodey said, as the casket was lowered in the ground. In his stupor, the service had ended and the others were now murmuring in small groups, “She made her choice.”

“I know.” Clint replied, voice even, “Even so, the world didn’t make it an easy choice for her to make.” He tore his eyes from the grave and flicked down the row to where Tony was seated in a wheelchair, “How is he doing?”

Rhodey shrugged, “According to him he’s just fine. Either way, the braces he made for me need a lot of adjustments until they can be applied to his situation, but he’ll be up and being a nuisance again soon enough.”

“At least he’s alive.”

The other man nodded before he clapped Clint on the back, “You made a tough call, Clint. But after everything that happened, this was probably one of her better outcomes. Take care.”

Clint waved him off and let his eyes fall back to the ground. The cemetery workers were already starting to set the black tombstone, a twin to the one right next to it, into the plot.

A warm body slid next to his and Natasha wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders, “Steve wants to know if you’re staying.”

“Considering we’re all wanted criminals, that was not my plan.”

“Evidently Tony, Rhodey, and Vision talked us into a pardon since we captured a more notorious fugitive.”

He glanced at her and smiled at the expression on her face. Even though she was asking, Natasha clearly already knew his answer, “I’m retired.”

“You said that last time.”

“I did. This time is different.”

She pulled him into half a hug, “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I thrive off of comments and messages *wink wink* and I also love hearing your headcanons for the story! Feel free to leave comments here or send me an ask/message [ on my tumblr](http://missharleyquin.tumblr.com).


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